


There'll Be Peace When You are Done

by hotrodngold (Krystalicekitsu)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Apocalypse, Community: comment_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/hotrodngold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John hates to think it, but he's glad the world is ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There'll Be Peace When You are Done

**Author's Note:**

> for [](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/profile)[**comment_fic**](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/). Originally posted [HERE](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/238259.html?thread=48792243%20-%20t48792243)

  
John hates to think it, P90 nearly empty, pressing hands against the wound he's pretty sure is going to steal his 2IC from him, listening to the screams around him, bombs and grenades going off in his peripheral-

 _"Uh, John- god!" groans and moans, bites and licks careful around bruises and abrasions._

-but he's glad the world is ending.

" _Sheppard! We need you in the chair-room, now!_ " Rodney's voice crackles over the radio, panicked and earnest, but demanding, intent. He wonders what happened to Carson, why the chair needs another user.

He double clicks his radio, a quick 'I'm coming' message and checks Lorne's wound again. The blood between his fingers is slowing and he can feel tears in his eyes. He's not sad. He's tired. Tired of losing so many and being unable to do a thing about it.

Lorne's hand comes up and grasps his where they're pressed over the gaping hole in his lung. He never noticed before how brilliantly hazel his second's eyes are. Lorne can't speak, too little air even if he'd had enough blood, but John knows that look. That look says, 'carry on' and 'it's alright'. Somewhere in there is 'avenge me, but don't die, you moron' and John chokes out a laugh, nods. Lorne- _Eric_ squeezes his hand before pressing his own gun and clips to John's chest. Half a second later and Lorne scrambles for his dog tags, jerking them off and pressing them into John's hands even as Rodney screams ' _Major!_ ' in his ear.

He takes another minute to secure the precious clips and give his Beretta with its remaining eighteen bullets to Eric before steeling himself, checking around the corner of his cover and flinging himself out into the battle with a roar.

  
That night, enemies pushed back for another blissful few hours of death, John buries his face in Rodney's neck and feeling guilty, because he wouldn't change a thing, cries. He cries for Eric and Teyla and Parrish and Katie and Beckett and Elizabeth and Ford. He cries because he can and Rodney knows and holds him throughout it all.

Because he can, and because Rodney presses kisses into his hair and against his temples, pushes his shirt off to run soothing hands up and down his sides. Because he can push Rodney back and kiss him like he's trying to punish himself and when he strips off Rodney's shirts and pants he lets him and parts his legs like he was waiting for this.

The world might be going to hell around him, but John's never been happier in his life and that makes him more miserable than he knows what to do with.


End file.
